


Doomed

by greendragon_templar



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Human AU, I take Hima's suggestion that Australia gets drunk at the movies seriously, M/M, they watch a horror movie on Halloween and discover they're as useless as each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 00:48:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16295132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greendragon_templar/pseuds/greendragon_templar
Summary: Jack severely overestimates his tolerance for horror films.





	Doomed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HybridDragoness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HybridDragoness/gifts).



Fifteen minutes into the film and Jack’s already feeling grateful he has to get up every three minutes to answer the trick-or-treaters at the door. That, and the fact he’s got enough beer in the fridge to guarantee he’ll be off his face by the credits.

They’ve been dating for months but this is the first time Jack’s actually hosted Feliks at his place, let alone reached the necessary consensus to put a horror movie on that neither of them have seen (not that he goes out of his way to watch them, if he’s being _perfectly_ honest). _Wolf Creek_? Disaster. He avoids anything in cinemas like the plague, takes his earphones out for the un-skippable YouTube trailers—

And Feliks, Jack thinks, as he sculls a Great Northern and drums his fingers on his knee in a way he hopes _doesn’t_ look nervous as hell, or even slightly close to how nervous he feels, is handling this far better than he is.

In light of that, the trick-or-treaters and their unrelenting demand for Karamello Koalas is a sweet, sweet relief. At this stage he’s not even bothering to ask Feliks to pause the film every time he leaves the room, promising that oh, it really doesn’t matter _that_ much.

“How’s it going?” he asks in the coolest tone he can manage when he returns, flopping back down on the couch. “Anything exciting?”

“Nah, not yet,” Feliks says back, rather quickly, resettling himself underneath a plethora of pillows and throws. “I don’t think we’re even at the good part.”

“Can’t be too long, then.”

Unfortunately, what follows after is an impenetrable silence that, for whatever reason, neither of them dares to break, uninterrupted by outside forces of any kind, and it’s getting hard to think of much other than turning the lights on. Jack finds himself eating almost continuously, something he rarely does when he’s watching a movie he’s gone out of his way to see ( _You bastard_ , he curses himself. _What’re you trying to do, impress him with how fucking fearless you are? Dream on_ ).

But they’re forty minutes in and, for the record, Jack’s only bitten his tongue _twice_ when there’s been a jump-scare while he’s been chewing. It’s too late to back out. He’s committed ( _Far out,_ _just_ _kill me_ , he thinks pathetically, drowning out the very appealing plea with a sip of beer).

“Are you hungry?” he asks with a slightly higher-pitched tone than usual. “Got the snakes you like. There’s iceblocks in the freezer—”

It takes a moment for him to get Feliks’ attention, and when he does, he could almost swear that Feliks is a little paler than he was at the start. “Yep,” he says finally. “Thanks!” He tentatively reaches out to get some from the coffee table between them and the screen, and Jack conceals some of his (probably clear as _day_ ) apprehension by finishing his sixth beer, pausing the movie and grabbing a packet of chips. _God, still an hour and a half to go?!_

He spends the next short while making unnecessary comments in the worst moments, the ones where his heart’s racing, and to his amazement, Feliks doesn’t even tell him to shut up. _Not that bloody scary, eh? What a joke. Seen scarier things than this on the highway. They’re all just the same, aren’t they? Can’t stand these kinda flicks half the time, like watching grass grow—_

Jack makes the critical, damning mistake of not having his mouth full the next time there’s a jump-scare.

“Christ, _seriously_ —”

“Hey, what the _fuck_ —”

They meet each other’s eyes at the same time, and it’s devastating. Jack can almost feel himself deflating, but then, Feliks is grinning, twirling a lock of his own hair around a finger. Jack knows, then, that he isn’t alone. Feliks’ other hand grasps for his.

“You’re _scared_?”

“’Course I’m bloody scared!” Jack blurts out, and there’s just no going back now. “Ah, fuck. I’m fucking useless with these movies. I was kidding. I was kidding. I can’t deal with this shit.” His voice thins, grows closer to a wail. “Didn’t want you to figure it out. I couldn’t, not _now_.”

“You were pretending?”

“Well, _yeah_. But I can take it!”

“You so obviously can’t.” Feliks has started to laugh, tossing his head back slightly, as though to push past his own unruffled state. With Jack’s hand on his, though, the slight quiver is noticeable. They’ve left the movie still running in the background, but their attention’s well and truly diverted.

The doorbell rings, thank _God_. Feliks insists on answering it this time, however, and Jack’s left sprawled on his side of the couch, self-effacing and more than a little disarmed. He pauses the movie and sighs at length, waiting for Feliks, who immediately decides to use Jack’s lap as his pillow. Jack drops the chips.

“Shit—"

“Sorry! God, sorry—"

“Nah, it’s chill.” Throwing the rest of the pack on the table, Jack attempts to move his position back to where it was. “Do you still wanna lie down?”

Feliks does, but they don’t resume the movie immediately. If they were to be yet more honest with one another, they’re _afraid_ to.

“And here I thought I was being a baby. The movie has like, _no_ fucking business being like that. None at all. It’s not even _good_!”

“It’s alright,” the other reasons.

“It’s _awful_.”

“If you insist,” Jack says, laughing to hide the incredible, sweeping relief. “I can’t tell you how much better I feel after all that.”

“Why’d you pick the movie in the first place?”

“Hey! I didn’t do it; you did!”

“Did not!” Feliks refutes. “As if I would’ve!”

“Argue all you want.” Jack drags the tip of a finger through a knot in Feliks’ hair, earning a disgruntled _ow_ on top of Feliks’ refusal to accept his culpability in the overall matter. “Oi, give it up. I was just taking the mickey. You’re so nice to those kids, you know,” he adds, more gently.

Feliks perks up, narrowing his eyes. “Huh? In what way?”

“Well, I never have the slightest clue what to say to them, I just kinda… throw lollies at them.” As if on cue, Feliks reaches awkwardly across to grab a handful of lollies from the bowl on the coffee table. “You compliment them on their costumes and all that.”

“Well, they’re cute. All I’m doing is telling them,” Feliks replies between mouthfuls. “It’s not so hard.” He squirms when Jack leans down to kiss his forehead, pushing him away playfully. “You can unpause it now.”

“You actually want to?!”

“Yeah, obviously! I’m not gonna let this dumb movie get the better of me. No fucking way on _earth_.”

“No way…”

“Yes, way.”

“If you want…”

“I _do_ want.”

Jack does what he’s told, with a due sense of dread, but it’s not so bad after that point – it’s not so bad with Feliks, knowing that neither of them are actually immune, no longer having to keep up the same feeble act. He’s tipsy already, of course – he’d never have lasted much longer if he wasn’t at least a _bit_ drunk – but Feliks’ company (and the occupation it provides) is a _much_ better strategy than merely getting himself to the stage where he’ll be monstrously hungover tomorrow. That, _and_ have to bear his own dishonesty, as a bonus.

They make it to the end without either being tempted to break the TV, and as far as they’re both concerned, their date’s been a _roaring_ success.


End file.
